darkness is the light
it leads me to moments of silence
where truth resides
the daily cacophony
blinds the mind
to what lies in the residues of essence
the winds howl songs of confusion
the sounds of the city deafen
the sights are burdens
tattooed on the hearts of children
time never stands still
laughter is a rarity
sanity is a luxury
hope is the sole provider
dreams trusty companions
sleep infrequent
happiness comes only to those who find silence in the shadows
talk to me
tell me of the winds
and the stories the whisper
tell of me of the words
silence speaks
words that i do not hear
they carry your thoughts
though they remain hidden from me
share with me
allow me a glimpse to the space
beyond your pupils
where your truth resides
allow me moments of clarity
dialogue to replace our parallel monologues
we can only be we with we
instead of the you and i
we seem to languish in
all i ask for is you
please let me in
i'm tired of knocking
I hear gunfire
When the lights are out
When the streets are dark
When all sleep
I hear gunfire
It rattles within my skull
Blinding
Deafening
Unrelentless
Gunfire
Lost thoughts resurface
Lead us to old truths
Create ripples in today's reality
The past is no longer what it used to be
The future is a place of fear
Where madmen roam beyond their politics
Dreams and ambitions are not the same
It is the ambitious who weave their darkness into the fabric of this world and the next
The dreamers are content to exist in isolation travelling between the 4th and 5th dimensions
But never the first
There is a fine line between poetry and sermons
Although poetry seeks no worshippers
The words mean the same
It is the speaker that brings down the walls of insanity and defines their truth
These words have no destination
They meander through the tentacles of life seeking the words that have come before
And have long since faded into the libraries of time
We leave traces on the stars
Traverse galaxies randomly
Hitchhiking our way between meteorites
When I sleep the possibilities are infinite
Deep in fantasy, I awaken to reality
Which is truth?
The world behind my eyes
Or the world before them
We live in life's emergency room
Bullets pockmarking the walls
Battlefields are whenever we want them to be
And, often, where we least expect them to be
I hide behind words
And pray for a brighter tomorrow
Poetry is ...
....... the carving of flesh from the bones of angels
...... moving parts of the mind rattling hollow
...... children laughing at silence
...... moonbeams caressing a lover's brow
...... murder by random words
..... the sound of stars breaking
...... the warmth of a womb
...... nails being pulled with a pliers
...... your first kiss
...... a dying breath
...... passion undefined
The answers are in the silence
Listen to carefully
And they'll pass you by
Excessive thought births a vaccuum
It is in the doing that we truly live
The heroes of this reality are the trees
The birds linger and are given life by the wind
Beneath the soil is truth
Between earth and sky
We live in an illusion
I know why the caged bird sings
She recognises our common capitivity
Within the bars she is truly free
While we are imprisoned in the city
Long, cold, damp streets and alleyways
Lead us willingly to the comfort of purgatory
We prop ourselves us with caffeine in its various forms
Death comes to us all
Our clotted blood thickens within dried veins
The maggots have gone on strike
The quality of feed has diminished
Who knows what you can catch from the polluted dirt
The cynic is reborn
I have stood on the precipe
And laughed into the wind
I have dance on the edge of a razor
And conversed with the dead
I run on the cliff's edge
With utter disdain for the rocks below
I have lived and loved
I inhaled and exhaled
I have done it all
But I am still young
The future is a meandering road across uncompromising mountains
The future is a thought lingering in the back of your mind
The future is not worth living for
Only today matters
Fresh water
Broken laughter
Spirited souls
Hopeful minds
Distant eyes
Tearful memories
Never-ending stories
Wide-eyed fascination
Wanted dreams
Walking dead
Reborn children
Fearful containment
Slow death
Hi, my name is Kojo
And I'm a junkie
I suckled the white princess' dry, powder-filled breasts
Together we gave birth to smoke
And my impeding death
But she loves me no longer
And I can no longer fulfil her desires
Ours is a story that has come to an end
And now I stand before you
With drifting heart
Broken thought
Mindless hope
Blank dreams
